A Cool Day In Milwaukee
by Gojirob
Summary: The Doctor acts to restore three Milwaukee, Wisconsin natives to their proper time and place, while calling their errant host to account and trying to see her past the bitterness of her wronged companions. Based partly on the early 1980's Animated Series, 'The Fonz And The Happy Days Gang', which really did exist. Really.
1. Chapter 1

A Cool Day In Milwaukee

By Rob Morris

 _1957, Milwaukee_

 _The Parking Lot at Arnold's Drive-In_

The two businessmen tried to finalize their discussion.

"Well, I'd like to keep the name, if we could. Arnold's is something of a local landmark. Kids, they spook so easy."

His would-be partner nodded.

"This'll let me settle some business back in Japan. Probably save me a fortune on calling my mother every Friday!"

The prospective buyer (or buyer-in, as the case was here) chuckled, as did his new partner.

"I'm lucky—my mother is right here-heh-always here. Always here. Yep, yep, yep, yep, yep."

Al Delvecchio tried to recover from his painful dip with small talk.

"So, is it an eventful place? Ya know, those crazy kids, always up to something?"

Mitsumo Takahashi, aka 'Arnold', shrugged dismissively.

"You'd think it would be, but after you get used to the music, and the kids and their problems, this is as quiet a place as you could want. Nope, nothing ever happens here-unless it involves—"

Twin lights in the sky emerged over the parking lot, actually outshining the neon sign that Takahashi was not able to afford to change, when he first bought the place from the original Arnold. Before the astonished eyes of the two businessmen, these lights became, respectively, an aircraft shaped somewhat like a child's top, and what Arnold recognized as a British Police call box. Though, he kept to himself, he hadn't known any of these could fly.

"Al?"

"Yeah, Arnold?"

"Let's finish this at Frank's Pizza-Bowl. Alright?"

Al looked up at the approaching crafts.

"Is it far from here?"

Arnold nodded.

"Other side of town."

Al nodded as well.

"I love Pizza!"

While this intrepid duo will now leave our story (at top speeds), let it be known that, when they reached the other side of town and their destination, one of them remarked about what a strange sight they'd seen, to which the other responded there could be no stranger sight in all the world.

After which, two strange young men said the following word to them at the exact same time.

" _ **Hello!"**_

Back at Arnold's, the two crafts landed, and their odd assortment of passengers disembarked. From the top-like craft, a young man with curly red hair, wearing a cap emerged, shrugged and shook his head.

"Great! On top of everything else, we finally get home, and Arnold's is closed! I'm a guy who loves a good prank, even if it's on me. But this bunch of yucks can close shop too, as far as I'm concerned."

A young woman (or at least someone who looked to be a young woman) with twin-tails on her hair spoke softly, and to almost anyone's ears, regretfully. Her Brooklyn-by-way-of-Queens accent was no longer quite as strong.

"Ralph, I said I was sorry!"

Ralph Malph (of the Wisconsin Malphs, son of Mickey and Minnie Malph), fixed an actual cold glare on the woman.

"I don't know you, alright?"

A second young man, also with red hair (which he wore more or less flat) emerged, looking only slightly more sympathetic towards the young woman.

"What did you expect, Cupcake? We just found out that you were lying to all of us, and for a while now. If that other traveler hadn't met up with us, we'd still be wandering around space and time like three blind mice—or maybe the better word is stooges."

'Cupcake' looked over at the other craft. She was fighting back tears.

"Richie-Ralph doesn't want to know from me anymore. You're angry, and you don't even get angry at people. As to him-he wouldn't even travel the rest of the way here with us."

Richie Cunningham wanted to comfort this girl. But he was indeed quite angry.

"Most of us you just lied to, Cupcake. Him, you betrayed. Trust me, he really doesn't take betrayal well. I've never seen that man hurt, and you hurt him."

Looking flushed, and a bit angry, 'Cupcake' turned and looked at him.

"What does he want me to do about it? What do any of you want me to do?"

Richie struggled with words both grandiose and utterly repulsive. He decided on ones simple, and matter of fact. Three words that surely said it all.

"Sit On It."

Whether she had the right to pout or not, 'Cupcake' looked no less upset and perhaps even more anxious as the door to the call-box looking vehicle opened, revealing a man who had until very recently called her friend. He was holding a small dog in his arms, bundled like a baby.

"You're gonna be all right, hear me? You're gonna be all right. Hey, Doc, is he gonna be all right?"

Emerging behind him was the craft's operator, arguably its owner, looking like an older human male with white hair and a tall frame.

"Mister Fonzarelli, what was done to Spunky was neither truly harmful, nor irreversible, and now it has been reversed. Some small traces of his enhanced intelligence may remain. But rest assured, this 'Mr. Cool' is gone for good."

Arthur 'Fonzie' Fonzarelli, aka 'The Fonz', saw the woman he knew as Cupcake across the way, and made for her like a shot. Behind the taller older man, another young woman emerged.

"Doctor, you might wish to head him off, before he heads her off—as in off with her head."

The man on his thirteenth go-round in eternity's grasp shook his head at his companion.

"He'll do no such thing, Clara. But as to stopping a confrontation, no. She needs to know what happens when you lie to your companions without a massively good reason. Yes, I surely have, and I have surely paid, and now it is her turn, dearly though I hold her."

Clara Oswald began a thread that would be quickly cut off.

"I hadn't known you even had a-"

"Hard not to have some, when you've been about enough. I have had at least two more, wretchedly and disgustingly precious. Now that is done with, understood?"

She chose to let it be done, and so it truly was. They turned to watch Fonzie verbally crucifying Cupcake.

"First off, you be very happy that in my eyes, a guy who would hit a woman is pond-scum. Second, Cuppers, I am _this_ close to becoming pond-scum, and not caring too much about it."

Cupcake's voice, already never a booming one, wilted in the face of Fonzie's fury.

"Fonzie, I didn't hurt him. I did it so he wouldn't be hurt."

Fonzie wasn't having any of it.

"You stuck stuff into my dog, and then made us forget about it! Tell me how any of that is not hurting, 'cause otherwise you and I have a real different way of saying what hurt is. And stop with the waterworks, Cupcake. They ain't gonna help. I can't believe I'm breaking your heart when it's kind of obvious you don't HAVE ONE…"

At this turn, the Doctor intervened.

"Arthur, that is enough! Whatever she has done, are you man enough to allow her to at least attempt to explain it?"

Clara silently mouthed words of awe that the Doctor had stepped in that direction, concerning the obvious alpha male prototype that Fonzie nearly incarnated, let alone embodied. But nor was the Doctor done, turning his attentions on Cupcake.

"Now is the time to reveal all that you have done, and why. You have lied to your companions on more than one occasion, and you owe them the full truth."

If Cupcake seemed out of surprises for her 1957 Milwaukee group, her next words were to prove this not true at all.

"You're a fine one to speak to me on how to treat my companions, and by way of someone with your record lecturing me on the truth, I'm apt to fall over laughing myself to death!"

The 1957 natives and Clara were struck silent by the complete shift in Cupcake's speaking patterns, till Ralph Malph spoke up.

"Why is Cupcake suddenly talking like Queen Elizabeth the Second?"

Fonzie for his part was still furious.

"So you weren't even using your real voice on us? Is anything about you real?"

Fonzie stopped, held up and moved his arms at chest height.

"The Fonz is in control-mostly. Okay, Doc—I owe you for fixing Spunky up. But that is the one and only reason I'm gonna listen to this girl any more than I have to."

New voice or old, Cupcake seemed to lose the nerve to use hers, so The Doctor began.

"I am called The Doctor. I, like your 'Cupcake' am of a race known as the Time Lords."

Fonzie looked the two time-travelers over.

"Hey, Doc? As far as race goes? You two are whiter than some Klansmen I got in a rumble with."

Richie was always amused by what his tough best friend didn't get. But it took a moment before he himself, as Fonzie would have said, caught the Doctor's drift.

"No, Fonz. I think he's saying-they're from another planet."

Ralph leaned against a wall, looking a bit peaked.

"Wow—wow—wow. This beats being on the run from that robot empire by a country mile!"

Seeing a concerned look on the Doctor, as well as Clara's face, Cupcake waved a hand in the air in dismissal.

"No, no—a completely different robot empire. Definitely not—them."

Fonzie didn't look that much better than Ralph – an idea that, if expressed to him verbally, would have earned the speaker a punch in the mouth.

"Aliens? I mean, aliens?"

Richie pointed out an error on his best friend's part, again without ever calling it an error.

"Fonz, we encountered aliens all the time while we were wandering. You encountered some up close and personal."

Fonzie shook his head.

"Yeah, Red. But those were aliens out there, ya know? These are aliens right here, on good ole' Terra Firma. The Fonz can't handle aliens on Earth!"

The Doctor heard Fonzie's ill-informed screed, thought about one of the most obnoxious species in creation, who Fonzie would indeed soon encounter, and actually sympathized for him internally.

 _*Nanu-Nanu, Arthur. Spoilers!*_

In the midst of this, Cupcake seemed to find her voice – her true voice – once more.

"Well, we both have lived extensively on Earth. We are given to traverse time and space in crafts like these, which take on shapes that we either designate or are forced to live with. Encountering systems' failure, I set my craft down here, where it sensed someone who could aid us."

Fonzie nodded.

"Ayyy, Yours Truly, correct-o-mundo?"

When the Doctor looked plainly stunned, Fonzie smiled.

"It's a gift. So, Cuppers? When you landed, you really did need my help?"

She looked especially hurt by these particular words.

"Not all of it was a lie, Fonzie."

"Yeah, Cuppers, but a lot of it was. What about the junk you stuck inside Spunky?"

Clara showed little sympathy as she held the small animal.

"Love me, don't mutate my dog."

Cupcake closed her eyes.

"After we'd taken off, I realized Spunky hadn't obeyed your commands and stayed by your motor-bike…"

"Motor-CYCLE!"

"…motorcycle, and had in fact joined us on the ship. You three wanted adventures before we came back. But even if we'd turned around before going to a single one of these, time means passing through other places. Places that for us, would be adventures, but for a small dog, might well prove disastrous."

Cupcake petted Spunky as she kept on.

"I used some reformatting technology borrowed from one of the Doctor's grimmer associates to give Spunky greater intelligence and coordination, but used in such a way as it could all be undone. In his new form, you, Fonzie, commented that, while he had always been Spunky, now he was suddenly Mister Cool. It took only a minor bit of light-based suggestion methods to make you all believe that Spunky had always been Mister Cool, and always capable of speech and articulation."

Richie looked confused.

"But if you could make Spunky talk and look different, why did he speak so funny? Ru row rat Ri rean, Ronzie!"

Richie chuckled at his own joke. No one else, even Ralph Malph, joined him.

"Not good, Rich. Not good at all."

Cupcake had an answer for this as well.

"Originally, he spoke in normal, unbroken speech. But all of you found it too unnerving to hear a dog talk. So I researched, and found that, in your near future, some humorous offerings use the 'R-Talk' for animated dogs. It seemed to aid your acceptance of Mister Cool."

The Doctor looked at Cupcake.

"Messick? Blanc? Frees?"

Cupcake shook her head.

"No, Welker."

The Doctor looked on in apparent approval of the choice, as Fonzie brought the point home.

"Cuppers, maybe you were just trying to help Spunky out, and keep the rest of us from worrying about him too much. But you still lied to us-big time! The Doc here said that you could have brought us back here any time."

Cupcake looked at the Doctor, then turned back to Fonzie.

"Not any time, Fonzie. When we first began our journey, we really were lost, just as I said. But then we all seemed to be having so much fun, I couldn't bear to see it end too quickly. After a while of that-I couldn't figure out how to accomplish getting you home without realizing my lie. I wanted us to part on good terms."

Fonzie shook his head.

"If that's what passes for explaining yourself where you two come from, then good terms are not anywhere in the cards. Whoa! I need to clear my head. Who's up for a ride?"

Clara either sensed or picked up on a gesture from the Doctor as Fonzie readied his motorcycle.

"If you don't mind, Arthur, I'll join you. Your friends might wish to give the Doctor and our truth-challenged girl some privacy to have an overdue chat-the TARDIS is locked down, right Doctor?"

The Doctor indicated yes, but Richie showed his confusion.

"How is Fonzie's bike still here, after all this time? Ohhh-my folks are gonna be worried sick."

The Doctor waved a hand in the air.

"By your localized perspective, Richard, you and yours have only been gone about twenty hours from when you first left."

Richie breathed a sigh of relief, but not a deep one.

"Thanks, Doctor. But my folks will still pitch a fit."

Ralph shrugged.

"Mine, too-assuming they noticed. Jerry Lewis Film Festival this weekend, including 'The Comical Kamikaze - The True Wacky Story Of Awa Urashima'."

Fonzie found the solution as he revved up to go with Clara.

"Easy, Red. Just tell your folks - I had a family emergency in Sheboygan, and I asked you two to come along for moral support. There was just no time to call. Your folks will buy it - after all -"

He looked daggers at Cupcake.

"-it's not like we had any choice about when we finally got home."

Clara looked a bit stunned as Fonzie took off in a hurry. Also still looking sour, Ralph picked up Spunky and took him inside. Richie still had one more question.

"What about the magic?"

The Doctor looked puzzled.

"Magic, you say?"

Cupcake nodded.

"I installed certain of our technologies inside my clothing. The results weren't always precise, so I wrote it off as 'space magic."

Richie now looked and sounded annoyed as he joined Ralph inside the TARDIS.

"It's like Fonzie said. Is anything about you for real?"

Once they were alone, the Doctor took some pre-emptive strikes at Cupcake.

"My own sins are a matter of record. I'll neither debate them nor permit you to use them as a shield."

When she kept silent, he tried small talk.

"I'd say you look different from last I saw you, but that's a given, isn't it?"

Cupcake looked him over.

"I'd say you look different, but truth be known, you look closer to how you did then than I could reckon for. Is it true, then? You're onto a second cycle of regenerations?"

The Doctor nodded lightly.

"Yes. On-again-off-again-gone-again-Finnegan-and now on again. Like you being on 'Cupcake'. I distinctly remember a little girl who begged me to forget I ever knew that nickname."

Cupcake wiped away tears.

"Most memories of those lives and times are pleasant ones. I find I don't mind Cupcake so much, anymore. I couldn't exactly use my given name anymore, after how you made yourself better known."

She seemed to remember something.

"He really is quite good at repairing systems that should be flatly beyond him."

The Doctor showed his agreement.

"Let's just say that, to my knowledge, Arthur Fonzarelli is a man of unique heritage, and leave it at that. In 1968, he will learn of that and make some choices. Now, what of choices you have made?"

She closed her eyes, now, and held her head down.

"I think that I've done something horrendous!"

Since he could tell this wasn't about the lies she'd told, the Doctor let her continue.

"Than-Thank You. I believe some foolish action of mine may have erased one of their siblings from all of time and space. The worst part is, I have no idea how I might have done this!"

The Doctor actually began to laugh, to hear this.

"You think this is funny? The man's existence has been undone."

The Doctor tried to calm her down.

"You are referring, I believe, to the case of one Charles 'Chuck' Cunningham, young Richard's elder brother. Am I right?"

Cupcake lit up.

"So you do remember him? Thank goodness, because otherwise, only Arthur does, and him very vaguely. Can he be restored?"

The Doctor rolled his eyes.

"No-the existence of Chuck Cunningham can never be brought back, because he never had one to start with."

Cupcake shook her head.

"I've seen historical records of local basketball games - scholastic and sports awards - but after 1955, it all simply vanishes."

The Doctor gave her a stern look.

"Never one word to Richard, understood?"

Cupcake looked offended.

"I'm not that stupid."

The Doctor was resolute.

"Three quite possibly former friends of yours might disagree. Now, as is said, SPOILERS! Charles Cunningham does not exist after 1955, but he also never existed prior to 1955. Long story short, there are a group of mystic monks here on Earth who safeguard an artifact of reality-shattering power from a rapacious amoral exiled entity. From time to time, they hide the artifact from this entity by incarnating it as a living being. As they do this, the memories of those around the incarnated artifact are altered to believe this new person has always been a part of their lives. Thus far, they have never permanently incarnated the artifact, withdrawing it again when their 'beast' has been eluded. Chuck Cunningham suffered the fate of many such efforts, as his physical appearance changed on multiple occasions, also straining the spell that birthed him. Howard and Marion Cunningham at one time believed this Chuck to have lived with them since birth. In fact, they all met him on less than twelve brief occasions, and now remember him only in odd moments that pass without comment when they are done with."

Cupcake saw the question in this.

"You know this how?"

The Doctor shrugged.

"Trenzalore. Empty centuries leave you tonnes of research time."

The Doctor finished his lesson.

"We've found out what you haven't done. Just how will you make right what you did?"

As daylight approached, Fonzie returned with Clara, and both seemed in a good mood as she got off the bike.

"Ayyyy-you take of yourself, my Impossible Girl. Doc, you are one lucky guy. Chicks like her do not come along every day."

As Fonzie made a beeline for Spunky, The Doctor struggled for words.

"You are - HIS - Impossible Girl?"

Clara looked a bit misty-eyed.

"Oh, don't be silly, Doctor. He's a stereotypical nice-guy 1950's hoodlum, complete with leather jacket. The man is a neanderthal...quite the neanderthal, at that."

The Doctor grew indignant by turns.

"I must ask exactly what happened between you two."

Clara smiled, and pulled his cheek.

"Oh, don't be silly. love. You don't want to know that."

Before the Doctor could press this, Cupcake walked right up to Fonzie.

"You asked for a better explanation. I think I have one, now."

Now out from inside the TARDIS, Richie and Ralph showed that they too were interested in hearing this. Fonzie gestured for her to start.

"Okay. This I want to hear."

Cupcake breathed in.

"The first thing to say is, I am sorry. No explanation can make my lies proper, or any of my actions into a good thing. The second thing to say is, I will return here each year on this date, looking for you. If you want a quick adventure-this time you can trust me. Third, I had forgotten what it was to travel with a lively group. I think my loneliness made me mad, and certainly foolish. Foolish enough to believe that not being alone was worth risking your friendship and affection, by holding you all hostage to a lie."

Fonzie gave his highest compliment-a thumbs' up.

"Now, that's what I call a good start, Cuppers. But now let's get at all the truth. Like, how long have you and the Doc here known each other?"

Richie added in his two cents.

"And who are you, really?"

Cupcake felt a burden lift, and went for broke.

"As to the Doctor, I have known him for all my life. You see, he is my Grandfather. My name is Susan."


	2. A Cold Day In Milwaukee

A Cold Day In Milwaukee

By Rob Morris

SUMMER, 1957, FORT MCCOY TRAINING FACILITY

The smaller of the two women just barely made it over the wall, sliding down with little dignity left as the taller of the two waited at the bottom. There was no gloating, as her muscles were only slightly less torn up than her friend's.

"Shirl?"

Shirley Feeney nodded feebly as she got up, also quite feebly.

"Yeah, Laverne?"

Laverne DeFazio looked around them, and shook her head.

"Is there any decision anyone anywhere could make more stupid than us joining the army?"

Any other time, Shirley might have defended the virtues of service to one's country, but she was so tired, she paused and realized Laverne meant them specifically.

"Well, those people in the drive-in movies who see an alien spaceship and just go inside? They—would have to be a close second to us."

Laverne tried to laugh, but found it too painful.

"Ok, climbing inside a spaceship is pretty dumb. But you know what I want right now? I want—to be watching a marathon of all those dumb movies, a burger in one hand, a malted in the other-"

Shirley raised a finger in the air.

"Malted Milk or Malted Liquor?"

"-I'll take either one—and The Fonz going for my bra-strap."

Shirley smiled.

"I'll put Carmine Ragusa in there—but yeah. I wonder how the gang is doing, back in Milwaukee?"

Just then, the camp mascot – Drill Sergeant Plout's pet pig, showed up and all but shrieked at the two. Instinctively, they snapped to.

"Yes, Sergeant Squealy!"

The pig plodded off, a smug look on its small face. Shirley closed her eyes.

"I still can't say whether Plout dressing him up in a little uniform is cute or insanely disgusting. Sometimes in my dreams – he talks. He's got a really annoying voice, too."

As they got going to face whatever music they had to face that day, Laverne had the final word.

"You asked how Fonzie and his bunch are doing? I can answer that easy. Better than us!"

A harsh thought the sunny Shirley had no counter for.

MILWAUKEE, ARNOLD'S DRIVE-IN BURGERS

Warren Weber was beside himself with fury.

"Man, first you guys ditch me, and now Arnold is selling out to the Mafia. What's next? Talking dogs?"

Trying his hardest to remain lost in thought, Ralph Malph found himself forced to emerge by way of these asserted stupidities.

"Ya know, of all the Potsie Webers in the world, you are The Potsie Weberest. Like we said, nobody ditched you. This thing with Fonzie's family in Sheboygan came up out of nowhere. We didn't mean to be gone that long. Second, Arnold is having a guy named Al Delvecchio buy into and run the Drive-In, so he can take care of some family stuff back home. He's not Mafia!"

Potsie once more re-earned his deserved nickname.

"What about talking dogs?"

Sauntering into the joint as if he owned it (and one day, he would), Arthur Fonzarelli caught the end of this conversation, something that made him determined to make this really be the end of the conversation.

"What's this about talking dogs? Malph!"

Ralph bypassed the Fonz (something he would normally never do) and moved to shut down Weber.

"Potsie, there are no talking dogs, anywhere on this planet."

Weber picked up on something.

"Why'd you say it like that?"

Ralph felt rage rise within him, but kept his cool, or what little cool he had.

"Potsie, go and search the world. If you find any talking dogs, let us know."

Weber got up in a huff.

"Alright, J Jacob Wisenheimer Schmidt! I will. Hey, Fonz, your dog Spunky is pretty smart. You don't suppose maybe he can…"

Fonzie always had lots of cool to spare, but Potsie was still boiling it down rapidly.

"Spunky don't talk. He has never talked. He will never talk. Like Malph just mouthed, there are no talking dogs anywhere on this planet."

Potsie shook his head.

"You guys have a weirdzo way of phrasing things. Well, I'm outa here. Geez, can't even hang around with Richie."

Ralph shrugged.

"Why not?"

Potsie seemed surprised.

"Well, none of us can. His folks have him grounded for a month—maybe more. Guess I'm not the only one you guys upset by vanishing for a whole day. What's so special about Sheboygan?"

Weber departed, leaving the other two alone for the moment. Fonzie had a look of disbelief.

"A month? A whole month—with maybe more on the way? I thought I had this covered."

Fonzie knew better than to merely throw out a lie. He did have a cousin named Angelo in Sheboygan, and had called him to back up any stories they told about where they had gone and why.

"Ya know, Fonz—Mister Cunningham's not dumb. Maybe he sniffed something out. Still, a month? Rich wasn't hurt. He was only gone most of a day-by how they understand time, anyway."

Fonzie waved his hands in the air.

"Careful there, Malph. You're starting to sound like the Doc. Hey, how are your folks dealing? How are Mickey and Minnie Malph?"

Ralph pshawed the idea.

"Them? In the middle of the Jerry Lewis festival, they got into ye olde 'Better with or without Dean' argument. They never knew I was gone."

Something Ralph had predicted, and Fonzie could see he was sad to have confirmed.

"Well, I say without, but Dino makes better records, so we're even. Hey, Malph, all that stuff happened, right? I'm asking because—"

When Fonzie uncharacteristically found himself at a loss for words, Ralph stepped up for his hero.

"-because you almost want it to be a gag, a prank or a drunken bender we all went on. I get it Fonz. We went on the adventure of a lifetime, weird stuff and lies aside—and outside of the three of us, we can't breathe a word."

Ralph actually made a fist, but then unclenched it—only to immediately do so again, about five or six times. Fonzie grew concerned.

"Aiming to take a swipe at me, Malph?"

Ralph flexed his fingers on that hand in a flowing motion, ignoring Fonzie's joke but not his unspoken question.

"I hurt this hand playing softball—two days before Cupcake landed. It hurt like crazy for a while—but not now."

Fonzie didn't follow him at all.

"Not catching your drift. Even nerds heal up. Malph—maybe Cuppers or the Doc gave you something?"

Ralph's face showed this was not the case.

"Fonz, this hand didn't heal by space magic or space science. It healed the way things usually do—with time."

Fonzie's instances of comic density were well-known. But he wasn't having one those then.

"Oh-Kay, there. Just how long were we traveling with Old Cuppers? The Doc said we were only gone twenty hours!"

Ralph blushed, and then looked at his wristwatch—a watch with a calendar function.

"I never checked this-after a while, didn't seem like there was any point. Fonzie—what is today's date?"

Fonzie nodded, then spoke.

"August 15th, 1957—right? Malph, please tell me I'm right! I do not want High Tea with Sherlock Holmes again-the fella never stops talking, and the marmalade was all acidy."

Ralph began to reset his watch, one dial at a time.

"I'm glad no one else saw this—Fonz, according to the watch, which keeps ticking, time travel or no—the actual date it should be is April 15th, 1959."

They'd gotten haircuts along the way, other things taken care of as well—but the implications drove right over the cliff, even for a man not known as a deep thinker.

"So we came back twenty hours later than we left—no big deal, right? But time is like a balloon full of water—it fills up or it empties out depending on which way you hold it. So we were really out there for like, twenty months…"

Unnervingly, the two spoke as one.

"…which the Cunninghams would be able to notice."

Fonzie stood up.

"Alright, two things! One, we get over to Red's place, straighten out his folks! Two-Malph, don't you EVER speak the same words as me at the same time ever again! Capeesh?"

Malph nodded nervously.

"Got it, Fonz. Not cool."

THE CUNNINGHAM HOUSEHOLD

Richie ate from a table tray at the foot of his bed. Howard Cunningham for his part merely watched.

"You can eat downstairs with us. This is not part of your punishment. Unless you're punishing yourself."

Richie ate some meatloaf, and then looked up.

"Well, gee—the dinner table is so close to the front door. Aren't you afraid I'll make a break for it? Plus, what with all the cars passing by, how can Joanie snitch on me if she can't hear my thoughts?"

Howard wasn't having any of it.

"You're blaming other people for a problem that you created. You're the one who lied—and who won't own up to it."

Richie put down his fork.

"I've lied in the past. I try never to, but I have done it. But haven't I also, in the past, just admitted everything? So if I have lied, and if I haven't fessed up, don't you think there might be a good reason?"

The logic almost seemed to get to Howard, but pride of place had kicked up in this mess, and he felt he couldn't afford to back down.

"When you and the truth become reacquainted, I'll be downstairs watching TV – something you can do again when you stop this tantrum, and this nonsense."

Howard closed, but kept himself from slamming, the door to Richie's bedroom.

"I really hate this."

Hate it he did, but there were too many things not adding up. Letting any of it go went against his character, and against the goal of building Richie's character. But if some things were out of his control, others were firmly inside it, as he made the visitor understand.

"Where are you going, young lady?"

Joanie Cunningham had lost an earlier grin, this when her parents laid down her brother's punishment.

"I want to talk to Richie. Is he considered a bad influence now?"

Howard mused internally that her brother being a 'bad boy' might actually make his daughter want to hang around with him more.

"I really don't think he wants to talk to you. Mind you, I'm glad you told us what was going on, and I think he should own up to whatever secret he's keeping. But you were maybe a little too happy to rat him out, and that resentment I can almost allow for. Couldn't you have done this quietly, pulled us aside instead of blurting out 'what a friend told you'?"

Joanie didn't answer the question.

"Can I see my brother, please?"

Howard was beyond figuring out any of his kids.

"Suit yourself. Just don't expect a warm reception."

Howard then checked his own train of thought. He had meant to tell himself, 'He was beyond figuring out either of his kids'. Because somehow, 'Any of his kids', implied something, something he did not want to even contemplate.

"More than two…kids?"

As he went back downstairs to eat, Howard again fought an urge. This was the vague urge to look at the room at the top of the topmost flight of stairs.

"Can I come in?"

Richie only sort of looked over.

"I guess. I mean, you can do whatever you want, right?"

She'd seen her brother a lot of ways. Joanie had a hard time recalling him as this bitter.

"Well, people expect more of you-always more of you."

Under normal circumstances, the gregarious Richie would let go of his bitterness.

"And now we know, once and for all, what to expect from you."

Joanie's pushback was immediate.

"You're the one who lied!"

Richie put down his fork, wiped his chin, and pointed as he got up.

"How many times have I covered for you? Backed up your story? Told Mom and Dad you were hanging out with Grace Deveraux, and not Jenny Piccolo?"

Joanie felt flushed, and tried to change the subject.

"Jenny's not really all that bad..."

Richie nodded.

"I know. No girl could be quite the girl you talk about and not have a family by now. In fact, I kind of like her."

Joanie shrugged.

"You never met Jenny."

Richie went in for the kill.

"Yeah, but right now, she's not you."

Joanie had been 'saving' some tears in order to thaw her brother's attitude, but now they came out for real, and well past her control.

"That's not fair!"

Just for a moment, Richie waited, trying to see if he was indeed being set up for easy forgiveness when he wanted Joanie squirming. But even if she had been playing a game, making his little sister cry was not something he would ever want. He pulled her close.

"C'mere, you. Now, I still want to throttle you-but I'll settle for knowing why you didn't come to me first."

Joanie had overheard Richie, Fonzie and Ralph expressing relief that the Cunninghams had 'bought their story' about Fonzie's relatives in Sheboygan. Ever since she blabbed, she had been wishing she either hadn't heard anything or just kept her mouth shut.

"Richie, I didn't know they'd go for a whole month. I was just scared."

Richie could usually pick up on her scams, even when he chose to fall for them. He was sensing honesty, and not a little bit of real fear in his little sister's voice.

"You really don't scare easy, Joanie. And just what is it you were scared of?"

He allowed for the thought that she had gotten him anyway, since doubling back on the expected was among the many tricks of his crowd. But this was, as Fonzie might say, really and truly legit.

"Richie-I heard him again. All while you were gone. I wanted to wake you up, have you tell me it's nothing. But you weren't there!"

Richie looked down.

"We've been through this. We've been through it a lot."

Joanie now looked honestly angry, and was pointing.

"You've heard him up there, too. Don't try and deny it."

Richie didn't deny what she was positing, but nor did he buy into it entirely.

"Was it really bad this time? Joanie, we've never confirmed that there is anything more up there than trapped air escaping."

She calmed down a bit, maybe the rationalizing allowing her own brain to activate again, in the midst of falling into panic.

"Richie, the night you were gone, it was like it lasted a year or more. Don't ask me how, it just felt that way. And this time? I didn't just hear like someone was talking upstairs. I heard something hitting the floor, constantly-like a basketball."

The panic returned to her face.

"I finally went out in the hall, went up the stairs to that stupid room, banged on the door, and told-it-to stop. But that's not the worst part. Rich, it talked back to me. Not mumbling, or something that could have been words. Simple, clear words."

Richie succumbed to the irrational. This was surprisingly easy, following gunfights in the Old West and struggles with a vampire king.

"What did he say?"

Joanie's face showed gratitude for the simple act of him listening to her and not insisting on dismissing what neither of them understood.

"He said, 'Joanie, I have a big practice tomorrow', and it was in a voice that sounded like you, Dad and even Mom blended together. Hey, Rich? Do we have an older brother?"

The question was foolish, and defied reason, all logic, and every bit of common sense. The problem was, it also defied history, and Richie now knew that this was not the stable, untouchable thing he once assumed.

"Not to the best of my knowledge, no."

Joanie looked hurt.

"Don't make fun!"

Richie looked at her, gentle reassurance in his eyes.

"I'm not. Joanie, if I told you where I really went, you'd have every right to run straight to Mom and Dad, thinking I was out of my mind. But I can't, because there's no way to prove what you would think was either a story, a prank or nutsy-cuckoo-ness."

He walked out into the hallway.

"But what I can do is have the two of us march up to that stupid room and show you and me that it's what it has always been - a storage room, maybe one we should just clear out and seal off. Are you up for it?"

Joanie made a few small steps, then began to shudder.

"Rich, I can't. Not tonight, anyway."

Richie held out his hand.

"Little sister, I will be there for you. Maybe I wasn't during that long night, but I will be right there with you as we end this-once and for all."

Joanie still seemed hesitant, her final choice unmade as Howard came from downstairs.

"Your friends are here. Fonzie says he has something to tell me. Do you have anything to tell me before I bring them up here?"

Richie wondered what would drive his friends to do this, but at Howard's offer he shook his head.

"Not without them present."

Howard looked mildly upset.

"Want to keep your stories straight?"

Richie resisted the urge to push back, but it was a challenge.

"Let's just say this is one story that needs to be told straight. As in straight-no chaser."

"This is not a night out with the boys, Richard. In fact, this is the farthest thing from that."

Though, Richie felt certain, after it was done, Howard just might want a drink.

A few minutes later, inside Richie's room, Fonzie and Ralph saw firsthand what they were up against.

"So you did lie. How am I supposed to trust anything any one of you says, ever again?"

Fonzie put up his arms, waving them back and forth.

"Now, hold up there, Mister C-yeah, Sheboygan was all a big lie. But that was all because if we went and told you what really happened, you'd call it a worse lie-or you'd call the funny farm on us."

Ralph nodded.

"Not the ha-ha Funny Farm, either."

The other three stared at him. Ralph shrugged.

"What? It's a stand-up comedy place, out by St. Paul. My family makes a pilgrimage there every October."

Fonzie made a slicing motion by his neck, both a gesture to shut up and a warning about Ralph's head that he took to heart.

"Okay, Mister C-just get ready, cause this ain't the kind of thing that normally happens in our little burg."

Richie jumped in.

"In anybody's burg-big or little."

So it was that Howard was told the story of Cupcake and the time machine, and a condensed version of some of their wacky misadventures in time, space, and a few odd things inbetween. Fonzie told most of it, with Richie filling in when Fonzie's lack of mastery of the Queen's English needed clarification. At first, Howard seemed to accept it all at face value. His first question was surprisingly mundane, even mechanical.

"So you just climbed inside what this strange woman claimed was a combination time machine and space ship?"

Fonzie actually stopped and thought before speaking again.

"Well, I guess we still really weren't ya know, sure about her. We thought maybe some TV show was pulling a big gag on us, or something."

Richie offered up what he had.

"Dad, I know it seems stupid to get in with a stranger. But she was offering us a trip to other times. That's something out of HG Wells!"

Howard didn't seem impressed.

"So is Martian War Machines ravaging the Earth! Did you want to experience that, Mister Adventurer?"

Ralph tried once again.

"No! Howie-the Martians are great people-a little hug-happy, but all in all-"

Ralph The Prankster saw something in Howard's face neither his son by blood nor his increasingly close surrogate son ever could, the sign of being played along.

"Guys, he doesn't believe us. Not so much as one word of it."

If neither Richie nor Fonzie were inclined to take Ralph's analysis at face value, Howard's sudden getting up and angry glare told them that, nerd or clown, Malph was spot on.

"No, I don't! This was officially your last chance to come clean on whatever really happened that night, and you squander it with some insane, cockamamie story? I don't know whether to think you've lost your morals or your minds!"

Fonzie was keeping back not only anger, but some genuine hurt.

"Ayyyy! I think that we just told you right before story-time what this all would sound like. Did we say this was just somethin' that happens every day? No. We said you'd be thinking of having us locked up either way."

Richie tried his best plea.

"Dad, you think we did any of this gladly? You think we don't know how this sounds? We told you the lie because of how the truth sounds, even to us, and we were there. You think we're insane or worse. But let's say this really happened. Would you want to tell anyone else about it? Would you even know how?"

For a moment, Howard seemed to be considering his son's words. He was not an ogre, nor an exceedingly difficult man, and changing times meant he was at least somewhat adaptable. But the story of the time machine and their journeys had crossed a line of believability few men of his era could allow for.

"I won't say this really happened, because it didn't. It couldn't. You three engaged in some kind of shenanigans, and now you're so ashamed of whatever you did, you're not men enough to own up to it. Fonzie, you're obviously a bad influence on my son, and you have no place here."

A man who had seen both parents abandon him stood stunned and shaken by Howard's words. But he took their meaning full well.

"You're throwing me out? Hey, pal-we have a lease, remember?"

Howard's response showed that this notion had been on his mind well before this rapidly escalating argument began.

"Just try and enforce that in court. A judge is going to want to know where you were, once I bring that up. A judge who does have the power to lock you up."

Fonzie looked crestfallen, and badly off. The embodiment of cool did his best to maintain it, amidst losing a second family.

"I guess-I could go back to my old apartment. Stay with Grandma awhile."

Before Howard could toss in another verbal barrage, Richie upped the ante of the grim game they were playing.

"Room for one more, Fonz? Because I'm not staying here one more second. Not where I'm not trusted."

Howard pointed at his son.

"Don't start, Richard! Did you know your mother took a sleeping pill, the night you were gone?"

Richie looked heartsick.

"She's not supposed to do that! How does she have any left?"

Howard seemed to calm, just a little, and only for the moment.

"She had a couple hidden away. But see? That's how worried she was about you."

Richie looked at the confused Fonzie and Ralph.

"She took them for a while. Then the doctor said she really shouldn't anymore. It's not like how some people get. But he was really emphatic that she should stop for good. But Dad? I wasn't gone for days or weeks. Just most of a day. I know you and Mom worry. But this was a short amount of time."

Howard shook his head.

"It sure as all blazes didn't feel short. We all felt this worry, this dread. It was like a fog was on the house-or inside it-inside us. Your mother took it worst. I could hear Joanie getting up constantly. I wanted to know where you were, but it's like you- like you dropped out of existence."

Fonzie saw something on Ralph's face.

"You got something to say, Malph? Something maybe the Doc told you?"

While Fonzie rode - and perhaps more - with Clara Oswald, Ralph and Richie stayed with the TARDIS. While an exhausted Richie slept, Ralph peppered the Time Lord with questions, which the Doctor seemed surprisingly willing to answer, the exception being how to meet several famous movie stars.

"I think. See, Howie just said it was like Rich didn't exist, and really-he didn't. None of us did, while we traveled. It's like the old gag. If you're not here, and you're not there-you're not anywhere. The Doc said, even if someone was really erased from existing, people close to them pick up on how something is not right. In this case, Rich wasn't erased, but he was gone. A family this tight just feels it worse."

Fonzie seemed to take in Ralph's words with a bit more regard than usual, deciding then and there to check on his Grandma regardless of the outcome of this argument. Howard showed once again he was less impressed.

"Wonderful! I was reconsidering what I said, and you bring up that bizarre lie again? Go ahead, don't tell me any truth. But out of whatever self-respect you have left, let go of this nonsense! As to leaving, young man, the law still says I decide what happens to you, and I'm beginning to think military school's a good idea. Ralph, your father might be interested in the same idea, if you can't show enough decency to tell me the real truth."

Richie was fuming, and Fonzie was close to burning up. But to the surprise of all, including himself, it was Ralph who erupted. Standing between Howard and the bedroom door, he let a man who often intimidated him have it with both barrels.

"You know what, Howie? You're a real piece of work."

"Listen, Ralph, you're in enough trouble-"

Ralph promptly cut him off, and continued.

"No, you listen. We tried a lie, because the truth was crazy, and then the truth got you all hot under the collar. Okay, I get it. I was almost kicked into a volcano by my worshippers and got changed into a wolf by an evil assistant. This is not a truth I'm gonna put in my college entry letters. But let's forget all the nutsy stuff. You have a good kid. We all razz him about how goody-goody he is, but he believes in certain things, mostly because you and Mrs. Cunningham drove it home to him. Other parents bother their kids to be more like Richie. You won, Howie. You have the best son a man could hope for, but you still treat him like he's about to go and be put on the chain gang."

It could have been his words, or it could have been the emphatic delivery of Ralph's argument, but Howard listened as he went on.

"Howie, let me try this? Is Rich hurt? Are any of us? Is Officer Kirk coming round and making trouble about an incident we were involved in? Did we suddenly ask for money? I know you don't like lies-we didn't like telling one. But why is this thing making you so tough on him? After some honestly stupid things we've all done, why can't this be filed under 'We'll discuss this later'?"

Fonzie would continue to call Ralph a nerd for most of their lives. But he would later concede, this moment was when he really stopped thinking of him as such.

"Mister C-from the mouths of nerds. Malph nailed it. You saw through the lie, and you ain't buying the truth. But if no one is bad off, how did this get to be all or nothing? Ayyy, for that matter, how did you see through Sheboygan?"

Howard looked between all three younger men before answering.

"Because, Fonzie, there is nothing you could have seen or done in Sheboygan that would leave the three of you looking like you'd gone away on a cross-country trip. Boys-your faces look like mine did after I rode the rails, back during the Depression. That was months. You were gone less than a day. Just please tell me what happened. If it's money, we'll find it. If it's legal, we'll work it out. But come clean."

Ralph whispered a number to Richie, who then closed his eyes.

"It's all part of the same story, Dad. If we couldn't make you believe it before, what's the point?"

The bedroom door opened, and a Howard on full boil turned on Joanie as she entered.

"Tell me you weren't listening in."

Spunky came in behind her, his tail wagging. Joanie nodded.

"He was scratching at the door. I think he wanted to see Fonzie."

Howard scooped up the small dog, glaring once more at Fonzie.

"I don't even know that you're responsible enough to take care of this small life."

Now really stung, Fonzie was on the verge of outdoing Ralph when he saw Howard touching Spunky's collar.

"Whoa-Mister C-you really don't wanna do that."

Howard ignored him, fascinated as he was by the oddities before him.

"What kind of crazy dog collar is this? It has a red light on it?"

Howard pressed a stud on the collar, causing him a mild shock and causing Spunky to jump out of his arms. Joanie saw it first.

"Why is Spunky glowing like that?"

Oddly, the three former time travelers had never actually seen this sequence before, due to Cupcake's interference with their memories. But they knew what was coming. Richie was still a bit confused.

"Fonzie, why is he changing again? I thought the Doctor cured him."

Fonzie looked concerned, but not worried.

"It's like after-run on an engine. The Doc said he might have residual power for this to happen at least one more time, only he couldn't say when. I guess this is when."

Ralph stated the obvious.

"Rich-I think we just converted most of your family to our side. Howie's definitely a believer."

Joanie saw it and no more believed it than her father. Spunky changed from the shape of an ordinary dog to an odd bipedal mix between the stance of a Human and that of a dog on its hind legs. His top paws were now actually small hands with opposable digits. That was only the least of the wonders as Joanie looked the new (complete with changed fur coloring) being over.

"Spunky, are you all right, boy?"

The dog/being spoke in the oddest voice any of them could recall.

"Ron't rorry, Roanie! Rister Rool ris on the rob!"

'Mister Cool' then jumped into her arms, and planted a kiss on her cheek, ooing and ahhing as he floated to the ground.

"Rello, Rister Runnigram! Ronzie? Rets ro ret some rool ricks!"

Howard stared dumbfounded at the proof of all weird claims, almost not able to breathe. Fonzie, for all the abuse he had taken, was gentle with Howard while still arcing slightly sarcastic.

"Mister C-meet Mister Cool."

Joanie stared in absolute wonder at the transformed, playful dog.

"He's so cute-like a living cartoon feature! Dad, can we keep him?"

In the midst of his stunned frame of mind, Howard regained himself, looking askance at Joanie.

"He's Fonzie's dog!"

The small creature made an angry pose, his paw-hands on his hips.

"Reah! Ronzie's!"

Howard briefly slipped back into his stunned state, to see the transformed Spunky. He finally managed words.

"Where do I even begin?"

The grown man looked close enough to tears to concern those he had formerly accused.

"I turned on all of you. I had people I care about-the son I love more than my own life-pegged as bad people-no, the worst sort of people. Some of the things I said-"

Howard tried to regain his footing, a bit of pride of place kicking up again.

"I still don't like that you lied to start with!"

Fonzie, perhaps more annoyed at their prior treatment than he was willing to let on, cut Howard's protest off at the knees.

"Mister C-now let's be real. Look how you went after us. Was there really anything short of Mister Cool here that was gonna make you believe in a story THAT WE TOLD YOU would sound nutso?"

Howard immediately saw Fonzie's point, and if somehow he didn't, the sight of a transformed anthropomorphized dog falling headfirst into a waste-basket would have cemented this realization.

"Roo put rout the rights?"

Howard conceded in a humble, dignified manner, starting with Ralph.

"You-keep right on putting me in my place, when it's called for-and STOP CALLING ME HOWIE!"

Ralph nodded.

"Gotcha, Mister C."

Howard went for Fonzie next.

"I guess it only makes sense I misjudged you. I've been doing that from the start. Look, Fonzie, some things were said that I can't defend. I can only apologize for all of them. The lie plus-other things I can't quite place-had me at my wits end."

Fonzie was going to make the man work a little bit, but not too much. He was already more father than his own had ever bothered to be.

"I'm okay with letting this go, Mister C-provided you tell me what some of those other things might be, Because me and Malph, we had this theory we want to check."

Richie looked to Ralph, who stayed silent, knowing far better than to jump in ahead of Fonzie. The leather-jacketed local legend in turn waited for Howard to start.

"Like I said, I can't place it. I mean, none of you exactly look different, but you are. Wait-one thing is your eyes. Like I said earlier-you look like travelers-and boy did you travel. If-if you were traveling through time, is it possible you spent more time away than just one day local time?"

Ralph did respond then.

"Try almost two years, give or take a season."

Richie found some words used by their former hosts to be worth repeating.

"Time may drag, or seem like it just flies by, but in a way, it's like a small house that on the inside, is a mansion."

Howard now looked a little sad.

"I feel like I missed out on some of your best years. I mean, at you age, sixteen versus eighteen doesn't mean all that much, but now that time is gone for good."

Fonzie put a hand on Howard's shoulder while Richie, realizing an error, gave Joanie the briefest of rundowns on where the trio had really gone. Her eyes went wide as saucers, only the living proof of the posing and preening Mister Cool keeping her from doing as Howard had done.

"Ayyyy-your boy here, and these two guys, wanted nothing more than to get back right here. With all the stuff we saw, with all the people we met, getting lectured by you was a dream come true. Cause it meant we were back. As to angry, I dig. Cupcake not clueing us in that we could get home-not to mention what she did to -ehhh S-P-U-N-K-Y -had me ready to spit nails too."

With Richie promising to fill in the details later, Joanie went back to playing with Mister Cool while Howard and Richie had it out. Ralph felt his pants pocket, gaining a stunned look on his face as he pulled something out of it.

"I hope you understand, young man-the stupidity you saw here was born out of a very deep love and concern."

Richie nodded.

"I do understand all that, Dad. What I don't get is, some mistakes aside, I'm a good kid, or I try to be. I get razzed for being too dullsville, but I know what you and Mom expect of me. Still, I don't understand why you couldn't let this go. If I was lying about something bad, I wasn't hurt and there were no police or anyone after me. If I am a good kid, and if everything else was the same, why is that being good never seems to get me a pass, or any leeway? I'm not expecting a pardon if I do something really wrong, but if there's only a suspicion, why not say to yourself, 'I have a good son', and let that be that?"

Howard understood, but could not allow for, the question.

"Because every parent I've ever known who just went by that formula came to regret it. Good kids go bad, and it can happen fast. It's not fair, Richard, but the standard of behavior you yourself have set for the most part means that whenever you don't meet it, we get worried. I'll apologize for swinging wild with the accusations, and stepping out of line with some of my comments. But I don't care how long you were away. You're my son, and I will worry, and sometimes, that worry will, as a wise man once said, make me a little nutso."

Fonzie took on a broad grin.

"Ayyyy-I am a wise man."

Joanie gestured at Mister Cool.

"I think he's sick. He doesn't look good."

The dog-creature was indeed staggering, and not in his usual manner. It was an off-putting stumble, and Fonzie seemed to catch what was happening quickly.

"He's running out of go-juice. Hey, Mister C?"

Howard, who had alternated between amusement and shock at Mister Cool's very existence, now showed the same concern as everyone else.

"Yes, Fonzie?"

Fonzie picked Cool up, cradling him and getting a weak thumbs-up from a species that wasn't supposed to have thumbs.

"The grounding wire for the lightning rod is still outside Richie's room, right?"

Howard reminded himself again to relocate what he had long considered an eyesore.

"You can see it there, yes. Why do you ask?"

Ralph opened the window nearest the grounding wire, while Fonzie put on rarely-used riding gloves-leather, of course. Richie gestured for Joanie and Howard to stay back, though Joanie looked badly worried for her new little friend.

"Ronzie? Ri ron't reel so rood."

Fonzie, who really was not fond of lying, learned anew that sometimes, they had value and worth, when used correctly.

"Ay, Mister Cool? I need you to do me a big favor."

"Ra Ravor? Ranything ror ru, Ronzie, ayyyyy!"

The small being's trust made the lie all the harder, however needed it was.

"Okay, so, I'm gonna hold you out the window, and you look up into the sky for Cupcake's ship. She's coming back to see us, and she misses you a whole lot."

"Ri riss her ru. RI'm ready, Ronzie! Rister Rool ris on the rob!"

So Fonzie held Mister Cool out, one hand under a paw, the other on his bottom, to allow for a shift of mass and weight.

"Ri rink Ri ree her, Ronzie!"

Fonzie prayed he had the right grip.

"I love ya, Mister Cool. Always."

"Ri Rove Ru roo, Ronzie...Rere she is!"

Fonzie was forced to close his eyes as unexpectedly, energy began to shoot out from Cool's head and paws, completely obscuring view of them. As hoped, the grounding wire and lightning rod sopped up the energy like a biscuit in gravy. When Fonzie pulled back, a sleeping Spunky had returned, looking very much like normal. For his part, as he handed Spunky off to Joanie, Fonzie did not look at all happy.

"You know what they say about dogs. The store owner told me-that puppy you're cuddling is one day gonna be an older dog at the vet, and you are gonna hear some words you don't want to. I know Spunky's alright. I know that day is years off. So-so why do I feel like I just put him down?"

Howard attempted to have an answer.

"Because you are exactly the opposite of the kind of man I accused you of being when this all started. You care too much for that dog to not feel that way, even when he was changed against your will. Mister Cool came from some part of Spunky. Fonzie, you're too loyal to not feel some sadness at a moment like that."

Joanie stroked the sleeping Spunky's head.

"So-we're never gonna see Mister Cool again? I kinda liked him."

Fonzie managed a smile.

"Same here, Short-cake. I remember one time-I dunno what year we were in, but we all took a fall as the ship landed hard-Cuppers was good for that-and I went looking for him, and I say _'Mister Cool, where are you?'_ and he says back to me _'Rin the Rerigerator, Ronzie!'._ That's just how things went with him-with all of us..."

Fonzie trailed off, and then picked back up.

"...cause ya know, we were in an amazing place. Maybe we got taken for a ride by ole' Cupcake-or Susan. But wow it was some ride, wasn't it?"

Ralph nodded in complete agreement.

"Sure not the kind of ride kids from Milwaukee get to go on. The kind of ride I can't even tell my best friend about. Potsie's not dumb-okay, not too dumb-but I can barely handle all this, and I was there when it happened."

Richie made a new realization based on Ralph's words.

"What about Mom? She was just as worried about me as you all were? Do we tell her what really happened?"

Howard gained a thoughtful look.

"Richard, your mother is a sharp, capable woman with a flexible mind and a capacity to understand even the most bizarre things and take them in stride. She's seen and dealt with a good deal more than any of you youngsters could possibly imagine."

Joanie took the cue.

"So we're not telling her?"

Howard sighed.

"Not a chance in hell."

Howard realized his choice of words, but given the strange subject matter, no one called him on it. Relieved, he continued.

"I'll figure out something to tell her-and you, Joanie, will back me up to the hilt. Maybe this will teach you to let some subjects lie-but only some. What am I saying? Look, next time your brother lies about something, talk to him in private first, give him a chance to make it right before you say anything. He's earned that much."

Joanie nodded, the crossed-moral lesson still hitting home for her.

"I'll leave my 'friend who heard something' out of it, from now on. I just wish I could've gone with all of you guys. I mean, a time machine that travels through space? How crazy is that?"

Richie knelt down by his little sister.

"Next summer, Cupcake is coming back. If Dad says yes-then you are coming with us."

Joanie's eyes lit up with wonder and gratitude.

"Rich? You mean it?"

Richie smiled.

"Ever since Mom and Dad brought you home as a baby, I wanted to give my little sister the whole wide world. But Eternity will do in a pinch."

In the midst of her (Howard-dependent) revelry, Joanie took on a serious look.

"That's great, guys. But can I ask all of you for a favor? That room at the top of the stairs?"

Howard looked like he'd gotten a chill.

"You mean the junk room?"

Joanie nodded.

"Can we finally clean that place out? I know its nuts, but I keep hearing something up there. Maybe it's just bins falling over, or boxes settling, but it seriously gives me the creeps."

Richie looked a bit unsettled himself, but agreed.

"Next weekend. It's a project. Also, none of that _'keeping this or that around for Cousin Gladys'_ stuff. Either we actually want it or need it, or it goes to the junkyard."

Fonzie looked relieved to be thinking about anything bound to this Earth and the relative present-day. This feeling would not last the hour.

"I'll go Red here one better, Short-cake. Let me walk up there, and the Fonz will give it the old once-over-ya know, see what we're up against. Those old rooms-you never know just what's in there. Hang on to Spunky for me?"

Joanie smiled and Fonzie took off for the 'junk room'. As their Time-Lord rescuer might say, a story never really entirely completes. It merely branches off, like time itself.

Howard asked for and received everything Richie and Ralph knew about Cupcake/Susan's grandfather, including his lack of a proper name, which seemed to most intrigue him. He ended up explaining to Marion that the boys really had gone out to Sheboygan, but that Fonzie's cousin had called them out on a wild goose chase. Their silence was from pride-driven embarrassment at having made such a trip for no reason. After they were chastised and told of a similar story happening to Marion, they were let off and Richie's grounding officially lifted.

Howard, who had known Marion's story beforehand, shamed himself for how easy it was to lie to his wife, and vowed that he would never keep silent on anything this big ever again. It was one thing not to tell her about Richie sneaking out to see a stripper. That her first baby had left the planet was another thing, and yet, as he reminded himself, there was no Mister Cool to prevent her from calling the mental hospital. The man he had inquired about would have understood such a dilemma.

For his part. Fonzie reached the top of the upper stairs and opened the door. He had kept from the others that he, too, had gotten a bad feeling from the room, even hearing things through the floor. The Fonz didn't admit such things.

"Hokay, Mister C-here's one problem-o. Your light switch is kaputsky."

Using his 'gift' (which he was still years from learning the true nature of) Fonzie struck the paneling near the light-switch, which caused the light bulb overhead to flicker and then come on.

"Ayyyy-let there be light-whattt?"

This time, the light stayed on, but the room itself flickered and shimmered before his eyes. It went from being what everyone had called a 'junk room', filled with all the things a family built up, no longer had space for, yet lacked the will to finally be rid of, to being the room of someone who stayed and lived there, and was a part of that family. At least, they had been, once upon a time.

"Hey, Fonzie? What's up?"

Fonzie's brain was reeling. The man before him looked like Richie had been moved both sideways and forwards all at once, and like the mix of things that made someone one way instead of another had come out like a newspaper word jumble. He was holding a basketball, which he bounced at least once, maybe twice while Fonzie fought to say simple, obvious words.

"You-you don't belong here."

Fonzie was so scared at that moment, he would have gladly admitted so to anyone he knew. Thankfully for his ego and pride, this wasn't necessary. Again striking the paneling near the light switch, he saw the bulb go out and the room revert from the domain of a forgotten man to a storage of semi-forgotten relics.

"What-what was that?"

Fonzie hurriedly gathered Spunky, said his good-nights and went back to his apartment. He canceled all five dates for that evening. At about 3 AM, he sat upright in bed and spoke one word, a name-or nickname.

"Spike."

Fonzie had a younger cousin, Raymond Fonzarelli, who had since moved out to the West coast with his mother. His nickname had been 'Spike', but this was not who Fonzie was referring to.

In his gut, which he had learned to rely on, he knew this other Spike was somehow connected to the man he had just seen shimmer into and out of existence.

"But why can't I remember what it is?"

As Fonzie sank into a fitful sleep, downstairs, Howard Cunningham rose and made for the living room phone, careful to speak and move softly.

"Operator-I need to speak to Barney Alvorg, at the following number."

This was a long shot, but Howard now felt compelled to play it.

"Barney? Howard Cunningham. Sorry for the late call, but I have something important to say. You told me your lodge would affiliate with The Leopard Lodge if I could answer a question about the time traveler you claim founded your lodge. No, this is no joke. You said the answer was itself a question, and I'm ready to ask it if you're ready to hear it. Okay? Alright, here it is..."

The man on the other end was an eccentric, even claiming his own granddaughter Peggy Sue had time traveled back from 1985. But Howard took the gamble, and asked the question that was indeed the answer.

"Doctor Who?"

FORT MCCOY

He had seen the light in the sky, the light that came from nowhere and everywhere all at once. The light given off many miles away by a small dog as it reverted to its normal form.

Now, he realized, that light was a part of him, and he also realized something else.

He could think. Think coherently, and with recall from moment to moment. He also knew this was an unusual thing to happen to a small pig.

"SERGEANT PLATT!"

Laverne and Shirley would not be released from the army as originally planned.

(To be continued another day)

 _Author's Note: As bizarre as 'Fonz And The Happy Days Gang' was, the sequel show 'Laverne & Shirley In The Army' was even more so, and indeed featured a sentient pig drill sergeant voiced by Ron Palillo of 'Welcome Back Kotter' fame. The Fonz and Mister Cool later joined the cast. As Rowdy C likes to say, they were taking the GOOD drugs back then._


	3. Answers Most Wanted

Answers Most Wanted

By Rob Morris

ARNOLD'S, AUGUST 1957

Ralph Malph stared at the poster, an actual wanted poster from the Old West, and he knew it was real, because he had been there, in that time.

"I could've solved everything with this."

The painful confrontation with Howard Cunningham had ended happily when Fonzie's dog Spunky again transformed into 'Mr. Cool', proving the outlandish claims of the Milwaukee time-travelers. Ralph now realized he could have ended it sooner.

"Watta dope!"

The small poster was of 'Big Jake Franklin', an outlaw who, in a coincidence Ralph would have panned if watched in a movie, looked identical to Arthur Fonzarelli, aka The Fonz.

"Some outlaw. Jesse James he was _not."_

Ralph again suspected that Cupcake had kept them away from any truly dangerous places, for the most part, and the adventure with Big Jake was actually a fairly silly one, guns allowed for. But again, he chastised himself for not showing this to Howard when it would have avoided some real trouble.

"Great work there, Ralphie—a comedian with no sense of timing."

As he sat and stewed in the booth, his best friend in the world walked in, and immediately spied the poster. Ralph looked up in panic as Potsie read it over, looking angered.

"So this is where you guys went off to?"

Ralph breathed in, and hoped for the best.

"Potsie, I can explain everything."

Actually, he couldn't explain a damned thing, and now on top of not using the poster when it would have helped, Potsie might end their friendship.

"No more lies. I know what happened now!"

Ralph doubted that, but before he would even attempt a lie, he had to hear Warren Weber out.

"Well, I guess the cat's out of the bag."

Potsie nodded.

"It sure is. You guys traveled to The Old West."

Ralph felt his face go a few shades paler.

"How—how did you know?"

Which was a damned good question, thought Ralph. Everyone who knew – including now Howard and Joanie – had taken an oath to never even mention those events if anyone else even might be around. Potsie seemed very sure of himself, increasing Ralph's fear.

"Well, it's kinda obvious, isn't it? You guys traveled to The Old West, that tourist cowboy town in-between here and Sheboygan. Fonzie even got someone to draw an outlaw picture of him—really good one, too. You guys had a great time, and I was stuck here."

Ralph made a choice, and some realizations. The choice he acted on first.

"You know what, Potsie-keep the poster. It's one of a kind, since—that artist kind of retired after he drew it."

Very likely, the artist had done the big permanent retirement some decades back, but Ralph was avoiding some of his trademark humor to be on the safe side.

"Whoa! Ralph, you mean it?"

Ralph thought once again.

"Yup! But, don't tell Mrs. Cunningham. She hates those tourist traps, and we didn't get her anything, besides."

Potsie smiled, holding his treasure.

"It's a deal. But we have to go there, someday, alright?"

"Deal, pal."

Ralph left before any more words could trip him up. At first, he relaxed a bit, shaking off his previous anxiety. If Potsie of all people could come up with an easy rationalization for the poster, there was no way it could've moved Howard.

But as he made his way home, Ralph realized with not a little sadness that two years exploring time and space were about to give way – to the last two years of high school.

"So tell me why we were so anxious to get back home?"


End file.
